Chapter 108

While I was busy blaming myself, a sudden question came to mind, and I turned to Esadien.

“When did you hear that sermon?”

“It was when I was living as El.”

“Ah…”

Come to think of it, the first day El had arrived, Ramande had been sighing heavily before suddenly dragging him off, saying they needed to talk.

Which meant…

That was… right after the bath!

My face flushed so abruptly it was almost audible—pop!

Esadien, seeing me freeze in place, cleared his throat and nodded as though he’d read my thoughts. And then, the words that came out of his mouth—

“Please take responsibility.”

“R–Responsibility?”

“I want to wield Karnian’s sword as soon as possible. I mean it.”

Those were the same words I’d heard when we infiltrated the old palace.

Back then, I had done my best to ignore that sincerity, thinking he just wanted to join our order of knights. But now, I couldn’t.

Still! Even so!

“Did you just propose to me?”

I asked, sounding a bit sulky.

It’s not like I had some girlish fantasy about a ta-da! surprise proposal, but still—this kind of offhand comment was a bit lacking!

But even under my pointed gaze, Esadien only smiled softly.

“I was merely telling you how I feel. If I don’t, I feel like you might fly away any moment.”

I flinched slightly at that and searched his eyes.

But today, the blue irises tinged with sky held no dark glint like they might lock me away somewhere.

Phew. Guess the golden cage ending really was too far-fetched.

Esadien wasn’t the shadowy mastermind type after all.

Relieved, I gave a small laugh and poked his side.

“What am I, a bird?”

“…”

But Esadien only smiled without answering.

“H–Hey?”

My voice trembled slightly without me meaning to. I was just about to think maybe I shouldn’t have teased him when he took my hand firmly and murmured—

“When this is all over, I’ll formally propose to you.”

His voice had sunk deep, unlike before, and in that moment, the softness I’d been basking in gave way to the memory of him.

Austin Roquate.

That scoundrel had survived even after taking a direct blow from Esadien, and was now holed up inside the imperial city with the gates barred.

Stubborn, isn’t he.

As long as he was alive, peace for Esadien and me was out of the question. He would never give up his twisted hatred of Esadien—or Gabbie.

I set my expression and nodded.

“All right. When it’s all over.”

That was when Gabbie slyly asked—

—Minuelle, are you really going to marry El?

…!

Now that he mentioned it—right.

By agreeing to wait for his proposal, I’d basically given him permission already.

Am I just going to get roped into marriage like this?!

I hadn’t thought that far yet.

Considering how I’d once kicked up a fuss to break off the engagement, I felt a little embarrassed at how quickly I’d switched sides.

Rolling my eyes, I hesitated to open my mouth—but before I could even get out the “E” of “Esadien,” he leaned down.

Press.

Even through his gloves, the soft touch of his lips made my slightly parted mouth close again.

Esadien was kissing the fourth finger on my hand, as though in place of a ring he had yet to give me.

Even though I didn’t feel heat from him, being with him always made my face and body flush.

Especially now—my fourth finger, touched by his breath, burned as if branded.

Perhaps he knew, for in a voice softer than silk, he whispered—

“Thank you, Minuelle.”

And with that, there was no taking it back.

Like someone chained by invisible links, I swallowed hard and met his gaze.

His irises, now darkened as if holding something back, kept my eyes locked as my heart pounded—thud, thud.

The slow, intimate air between us, like we were the only two in the world, was broken by Juela’s shout from inside the carriage.

“Are you getting in or not?!”

Eep!

Like waking from a spell, I flinched, pulling my hand from his.

The carriage door was open!

Everyone had been waiting for us—which meant they’d seen everything!

“L–Let’s go!”

This was a year’s worth of embarrassment in one go. If I could, I’d dive into a mouse hole right now.

Scrambling into the carriage like I was fleeing for my life, I was met with Juela’s teasing—

“What’s with the formal speech?”

“Sometimes I just—do that! …You know!”

She was too much.

The rest of the ride home, I kept fanning myself and staring out the window, doing my best to hide my embarrassment.

A short while after Esadien returned to the ducal estate, something happened even worse than the fact Austin was still alive.

“What? Proclaiming himself emperor?”

While the emperor was very much alive and well, he had openly declared he would take the throne.

I was in the middle of tea when I heard the news, and the tea spilled right out of my mouth and back into the cup.

Juela gracefully took the teacup from my hands and passed it to a maid, her face deadly serious.

“That’s right.”

“Is he out of his mind? No—he’s never been in his right mind.”

“Some of the people who entered the imperial city with the second prince have been secretly sending out their retainers to persuade other nobles.”

She pressed her tired eyes, then went on.

“The bigger problem is that some are actually swayed by it.”

The most decisive factor had been the news that Viscount Celeste, believed dead, had returned.

People called it a miracle, but I only scoffed.

“So the viscount’s corpse was a fake too.”

I knew the trick well—it was the same one I’d witnessed firsthand with Austin, whose body had crumbled into sand before my eyes.

He must have done the same to Viscount Celeste. A sand-made puppet, without breath or pulse, would easily pass for a corpse—especially if an accomplice lightly brushed some poison inside the mouth or nose to ensure a diagnosis of poisoning.

But how can he use that ability so freely?

He wasn’t even the apostle of the Sand God.

Before I could chase that thought further, Juela’s next words pushed it aside.

“Fortunately, he’s been targeting mostly lower nobles so far. Counts and above can’t ignore the fact His Majesty is still in good health.”

But there were many lower nobles.

And the fact that people were leaning toward Austin at all, even while the emperor still lived, was already undermining the crown’s authority.

“Didn’t the second prince’s maternal family join the imperial cause from the very start?”

“Yes. The Marquis of Sandor was the only high noble to follow the second prince.”

I remembered the Marquis’s eyes—sharp under white brows, so striking I’d never forgotten them even after only a brief encounter.

Even after almost twenty years, he still hasn’t let go of his daughter.

I couldn’t imagine him failing to see that something was wrong with Austin—perhaps that was just a parent’s heart.

“But, Juela—if a marquis has that much wealth, it’s not easy to seize all of it at once, right?”

I thought that if we froze his assets by imperial decree, we could at least restrict his movements. But as soon as I finished speaking, Juela shot to her feet.

“That’s it! The marquis’s agents have been traveling around, pretending to liquidate assets!”

She rushed out without a word of farewell.

Left staring at her retreating back, I gulped down the fresh tea—but the tightness in my chest didn’t ease.

“…Ordinarily, this is when everyone should be happily preparing for the New Year’s Festival.”

With the political climate so tense, there was only gloom in the air. Amid the glittering decorations, the absence of laughter felt almost eerie.

I sighed deeply.

“Lord Plendena must be disheartened.”

In the end, all of this was Austin Roquate’s fault.

All except for one thing.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Ramande.”

I tapped lightly on his door.

Lately, Ramande had been acting strangely.

Before, his expression was just dark—but since Sir Nicholas’s memorial, he’d vanished from sight altogether.

At first, I thought he was just busy shuttling between the temple and the knights, so I deliberately left him alone.

But—

‘Ramande? He hasn’t been here since your family’s memorial.’

‘The order hasn’t been training lately, my lady—we’ve been focused on guarding the borders.’

From the words of the apostle and Clidane, I learned Ramande had been holed up in his room all this time.

“Is he really moping over a heartbreak?”

Heartache could be healed with time, but as a friend, I couldn’t just watch without doing anything when I knew something was wrong.

Knock, knock.

I bit my lip and knocked again.

“Open up, Ramande.”

“…”

No sound came from inside.

The silence made all kinds of thoughts flash through my head.

Is he hiding under the blankets crying?

…to…

Don’t tell me he collapsed?!

That last thought made me panic.

Bang, bang, bang!

“Hey! Ramande! Answer me!”

Still, nothing.

The butler. I’ll get the butler and—

I turned to leave, but—

Thud!

“Wah?!”

Startled by the dull sound, I fell back on my rear.

Looking up, I saw Ramande standing there.

My forehead throbbed where I’d bumped it, and he asked—

“…What are you doing here?”

His voice was rough, full of exasperation.

“…”

Even though I’d been looking for him all this time, now that he was here, I just stared.

He looked gaunt.

His already sharp features seemed sharp enough to carve a watermelon, and his eyes—darker than even Juela’s—were devoid of any warmth.

His gaze was so cold, almost like he found me bothersome, that I felt crushed beneath it.

No. Ramande wouldn’t be like that.

I hurried to shake off the thought and stood up, forcing my brows together and raising my voice as if nothing had happened.

“Hey! If you weren’t in your room, you could’ve said so!”

“How could I answer if I wasn’t in my room?”

“Oh…”

…Well, he had a point.

The little bravado I’d worked up deflated instantly, and Ramande clicked his tongue.